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She planned on pouring the rotted slime into her ex’s carburetor. ” All that happened, though, was Mirth getting on all fours to clean up the shattered, splattered mess after seagulls knocked the jar over. a poem, published in Harper’s, that’s derived from my years as a house cleaner. Listen, I have no illusion about writing as a career or vocation. The night she finally did it, this smart, accomplished woman had a dozen close friends over. She would rise to become President of the San Francisco Art Institute. From Cleveland, Elizabeth Hayes sent me a most harrowing account of her attempted suicide, “Why I Jumped off the Lorain-Carnegie Bridge.” The key reason, in my mind, is her ill-considered marriage.Good Cheer was also doing a Berkeley Ph D, but in literature. It begins, “Belonging to the lower class, you’re expected / To cater to the upper class’ lower bodily functions.” Her work experience matters, I kept telling B. As a public overture, it’s mostly pathetic, if not bathetic. Ella was tall, well-liked, never married, childless, in a field she loved, financially secure and with a spectacular career trajectory. She collected African-American quilts, drove long distance to see Cher’s Farewell Tour. Elizabeth: When I was 19 somebody asked me, “But don’t you want to get married?Settled in Paris, Mirth decided she would jog each one of its streets, so for a month, her map filled up with red lines. Her giddiness was torpedoed when friends in Berkeley emailed to say her fiancé was regularly seen with another woman. One of the dialogues is lifted straight from a conversation I had in Mc Glinchey’s. When I opened the door, I saw a brand new bartender, however, and the place seemed darker than usual. There was but one customer, a middle-aged woman with wiry, uncombed hair and a shabby jacket, hunched over an ashtray and her High Life. B.’s tattoos is “XXIII,” meaning she only found love, sort of, with her 23rd boyfriend. Boozing in Friendly, she flirted with Don, its owner, then slurred that she wanted to off herself.Mirth flew back to confront him, but the cad refused to meet. “You hear crazy shit like this all the time, so use it! Calling her bluff, Don laughed, “Can you lend me first?Good Cheer took it in strides and still considered her boyfriend of three years a close friend. said she had always wanted to write, I gave her tips and even an assignment. B., it’s a 1,000-word story called “Creeps.” As an attractive bartender in an old man’s hangout, she certainly didn’t lack material. i know I need to get past it if iam to go anywhere with my life, let along my writing. She said she didn’t know how to live, and just wanted to end it all. Since suicide is the ultimate blasphemy, many of those who failed at the attempt speak of experiencing the darkest terror during their brief death. And don’t give me this nonsense about how single motherhood is the way to go.When I met these lovelies, they were certainly alluring enough to score transient boyfriends or at least bed partners. B.’s life was in turmoil, with the only stability her two-days-a-week job at the Friendly Lounge, my local dive. i just don’t know how to go about getting past it all, it’s as though these problems have consumed me, and there is not even a “me” anymore… It is a paradox that one of the most devouts ever, Simone Weil, was a suicide, but of course, so was Jesus. Then I met Malvin, appropriately named as it turned out (bad wine, get it?When Mirth won a six-month fellowship to study in Paris, she finally agreed to get engaged. Men of all ages propositioned her daily with dinner, cash, coke or weed. Another ink of hers is “DIE BITCH.”Many people talk of killing themselves, but how many have it etched into their skin?This way, her boyfriend could be assured she would come back and not shack up with some French beau. Since it has a bar setting and a character from Camden, I thought she might be inspired by it. Years ago, a Friendly Lounge bartender became a massage therapist, then got busted twice for prostitution.

Let’s call our three graces Splendor, Mirth and Good Cheer.

For nearly three years, she was in a relationship, but each time her man proposed marriage, Mirth said no, thanks.

It felt enough like marriage since they were living together and even bought a car together.

In her mid-40’s, this poet wrote a humorous newspaper article about online dating, then managed to get married soon after. They were in their early 30’s, cool, smart, attractive and fairly miserable.

Though you can’t count on sampling endless partners before settling down at 45, this culture dopes us into thinking we can be young forever, with all options open until that cremation chamber. A young Augustine bargained with God, “Give me chastity, but not yet.” We of the 21st century don’t care for checks to our appetite. Chastity still comes, however, as too many of us find ourselves unmarried, loveless and compulsively molesting our forlorn, nether parts while ogling chaturbate. Three or four nights a week, you could find them sipping cocktails outside the Make Westing bar on Telegraph Avenue.

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